


Facing Your Demons

by abeautifulmessofcontradictions, TheTwoFlamingos



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 21:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6346474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abeautifulmessofcontradictions/pseuds/abeautifulmessofcontradictions, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTwoFlamingos/pseuds/TheTwoFlamingos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raymond Reddington's world comes crashing down, as his worst fear comes true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to my incredible beta, abeautifulmessofcontradictions. This story wouldn't have come to fruition without her!

That night found Red sitting in the living room of their apartment, perched on his end of the couch, sipping his scotch as he waited for Lizzie to come home. They hadn't spoken practically all day as she had been out helping Ressler and Samar track down a couple of loose ends with the Cabal. He knew that they had had an operation earlier in the evening and he was becoming increasingly more worried the later the hour got with no word from his love. Lifting his glass to his lips, he felt the amber liquid burn as it traveled down his throat, the warmth radiating throughout his belly. Looking out the window to his left, he stared out at the DC skyline and reminisced on the past week.

It had been eight days since Lizzie’s official exoneration; a week since she had come running into his arms after she was released from the courthouse. Things had progressed between them at a more rapid, yet sure, and steady rate.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back…

When she pulled back from the hug that night, Red saw a resolve, a determination in her eye. He didn't have to wait long to find out what decision she had come to, as he found her lips pressed firmly against his own a split second later. At first, he tensed up, surprised at the contact, but after a beat, the rest of his walls came tumbling down and he brought one hand up to thread through her hair while his other arm secured her body against his own. Knowing that she wanted this, wanted him...them, encouraged him to deepen the kiss, and so he did. Pulling back momentarily, with barely a breath of space between them, their eyes locked, and reached a silent agreement, an unbreakable pact between two people. Leaning forward, Lizzie placed her forehead against his own, brushing the side of her nose against his.

“Thank you, Raymond” she whispered against his lips. Hearing her say his given name out loud for the first time ripped a deep groan from his chest.

“You’re welcome, Lizzie,” he whispered back. His hand came up and swept her hair behind her ear. Shifting his gaze, he saw her watching him, seemingly searching his eyes for some sort of answer or cue. She must have found it, because suddenly, a light shone in her eyes; something he’d only seen a few times before.

“I love you,” she said breathlessly. “I love you so much,” she finished on an exhale. Her heart beat out a rapid rhythm as she waited to see his response to her declaration.

Red was certain his heart skipped a few beats of its own. The woman he loved had just admitted her love for him! He was pretty sure the day couldn’t get any better. Bringing both his hands up to cup her face, his thumbs brushed over the apples of her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I love you, too. You are…everything to me, Elizabeth. Everything,” he responded, shaking his head in slight disbelief. He had hoped that this day would come, but for the longest time, he feared it would remain just a dream, never becoming reality. But this moment, the way she had looked at him across the street, the way she had practically run to him, her tight embrace, their first kiss, her beautiful, beautiful declaration and his response. Oh, this night had turned out fantastic.

They stood there a few moments longer, simply basking in the warmth and comfort of being in one another’s arms, their noses nuzzling each other’s necks. He felt a shiver run through her body and he pulled back to usher her into the warm backseat of the car. As soon as they were seated, Red pulled her back into his side, unwilling to give up the closeness and intimacy that they had developed in the past twenty minutes. So content was she in his arms, that Lizzie didn’t even question where they were going. She simply trusted Red and Dembe implicitly with her life.

That night found them back at his current safe house. Once settled inside and the house securely locked up, Dembe embraced Lizzie before heading to his own room to retire for the night.

“I’m glad you're back with us safely,” he whispered in her ear before pulling away and smiling down at her.

“Thank you, Dembe, for all your help and for keeping Red safe,” she murmured back, squeezing his shoulders affectionately.

Turning, she saw Red regarding them with complete adoration and affection. A soft smile adorned his face as he offered her his hand. Without hesitation, she took it. He led her upstairs, and as they passed his room, Lizzie stopped, causing him to turn around with a questioning look.

Dropping her gaze, he watched her shuffle her feet as she tried to find the courage to say what she wanted, what she needed. Seeing her struggle, he squeezed her hand reassuringly, his heartbeat picking up as he hoped she’d ask what he thought she would.

“Um…if it’s ok…I was wondering i-if I could stay with you…tonight? I don't mean…It’s just…I-I don't want to be alone,” she managed to get out with a cringe.

‘How pathetic,’ she thought to herself. She looked down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes, afraid he’d reject her. She felt his body heat encompass her as he stepped into her. His right hand came up and his index finger crooked under her chin and lifted her gaze to his own. Much to her relief, she saw an incredible warmth and love shining in his eyes as he regarded her.

“Of course, Lizzie. I understand what you meant. I don't want to let you out of my sight quite yet, either. Come,” he invited as he lead her into the room, closing it softly behind her. That night she slept in his arms, dressed in only a pair of his boxers and one of his white undershirts. They lay together in the center of the bed, Red spooned completely against her back, his nose nuzzling in her hair and in the crook of her neck as she clung to the arms wrapped around her. Thankfully, that night found them both sleeping more soundly than either had in a very long time.

Red woke her at dawn with a gentle kiss on each of her eyelids. She nuzzled closer to him, winding her arms tighter around his middle. She had turned in her sleep, seeking him even in slumber and she was wound around him like a vine. The spell of the morning was draped over them like a heavy blanket, warm and nestled close, the haze of dreams clinging to them stubbornly, giving everything a fuzzy quality that made the world seem not quite real yet. She didn’t want to wake up.

Lizzie kissed him before he could break the spell, her tongue dancing against his faintly. She moaned for him when his palm ghosted over her breast, encouraging him to repeat it. He smiled against her skin, his lips nibbling along the satin of her flesh as he uncovered her piece by piece. She needed him like she needed air to breath and she had been far too long denied.

Red nudged her legs apart with his knee, rolling her onto her back and settling himself between her thighs. He asked her with his eyes and she brought his lips down to hers in answer, raising her hips to meet his. Their lovemaking was slow and simple, a merging of hearts, the fulfillment of an unspoken promise long-ago made. He found his peace when he was, at last, buried deep within the forgiving warmth of her delicate body. His forehead pressed against hers as they were finally melded as one. Each deep and gentle thrust beckoned her closer to the edge of her own sanity as she gave herself over to him, body and soul. Lizzie cried his name when she came apart beneath him and the unconditional love shining in her eyes sent him tumbling over edge after her. He held her after, as she wept softly for all the wasted time.

In the days following, they had purchased an apartment together, decorating and filling it with their own styles. Lizzie went back to work with the Task Force as an asset and their only link to Red, while Red returned to trying to take down and dismantle the Cabal from his side of the fence. His meeting with Laurel Hitchin the night of the exoneration had proven productive as he now had a seat at the table with the Cabal, which enabled him to work his magic from the inside. Every night, Red and Lizzie found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms, sleeping peacefully, and much to their relief, dreamlessly.

Red was brought out of his musings by the sound of shuffling coming from outside the door. Immediately, he felt a sense of relief. Lizzie is finally home, he thought to himself. The small velvet box in his pants pocket that held the ring he hoped to slide onto Lizzie’s finger that very night pressed firmly into his thigh, which caused a small smile to crease his face. His relief was short lived, however, as there was a hesitant knock on the door, rather than the unlocking of the deadbolt as he expected. Quickly, Dembe made his way over to the door, gun drawn. He looked through the peephole and saw Harold Cooper standing on the other side. He instantly noted the grave look on Director Cooper’s face. Dembe let the man in and Red saw that something was very wrong; his first thought was Lizzie.

“Reddington. I’m so sorry…” he trailed off as he brought Lizzie’s blood drenched jacket up in front of him, and held it out to Red.

“No,” Red replied solemnly, as he shook his head left to right. He recognized the jacket as the one he’d slipped onto her body this morning as she left their home.

“No...that’s not…” he stammered, as bile rose up in his throat. Reaching out, he shakily took the jacket from Cooper and brought it to his chest. At the smell of her perfume mixed with the coppery tones of blood, he shifted his body just fast enough that he spilled the contents of his stomach onto the hardwood floor, rather than on the Persian rug he and Lizzie had picked out together just yesterday. He felt weak and sunk to the floor. Two strong arms and a solid chest pressed to his back, and he faintly heard someone crying. As awareness came back to him, he realized that the crying was coming from him, the gut-wrenching sobs wracking his body as he writhed on the floor, and Dembe was at his back as he held him tightly as they sat together in their grief.

In his ear, Dembe was humming an old song from his village that had soothed Red in the past, pre-Lizzie, when Red had had a particularly virulent nightmare. After a couple of minutes, his sobs turned to silent tears as his body continued to shake. His eyes couldn’t break away from the bloody jacket that lay on the floor in front of him. When the pain of doing nothing outweighed the anguish of his grief, he extricated himself from Dembe’s arms and staggered to his feet.

Cooper was there with a bottle of water to wash the taste of bile out of his mouth. Looking over, he saw that Cooper had already cleaned up the mess he’d made on the hardwood floor. Red’s eyes shifted over to him and he saw a calm understanding reflected back and his own hurt glistening in his eyes.

Cooper had known Red for a while, and in that time, he’d never seen Red this broken, and it was startling. Dembe was no better, as his own silent tears made tracks down his face.

“W-what happened?” Red asked, his grief abruptly replaced with an extreme, blinding anger . Red could feel it bubbling up inside him; his rage would be boundless.

“Agent Ressler and Elizabeth responded to an anonymous tip regarding the location of the Cabal member we were tracking, but it was an ambush. Ressler is still in the hospital being treated as we speak. From what I was told, when they arrived at the site, they entered the building and came immediately under fire, so they split up trying to find cover. Agent Ressler was able to send out a distress signal so we could send out backup, but we were too late.” Cooper shifted uncomfortably under Red’s stare. “When we arrived at the scene, Agent Ressler was unconscious, and Elizabeth’s body was nowhere to be seen. It was never recovered, but we found her jacket and…a lot of blood. Around 5 pints to be exact.” He paused, unsure whether or not to divulge his own private assumptions. He took a deep breath; Raymond Reddington was a man who appreciated brevity; he liked having all the facts. And besides, there was no way anything that he said would be worse than the unbearable thoughts racing through Reddington’s head already. “There’s no way anyone could survive losing that much blood, being that far from medical help...” Cooper trailed off as he noted Red practically vibrating in unadulterated rage. His face was as desperate as a wild animal.

“I’m very sorry, Ray. I’ll have Aram gather all of her personal effects at the office and bring them here tomorrow,” Cooper ended as he made his way back to the door and saw himself out.

This must be a dream. He thought blearily. I fell asleep on the couch and any minute now I’m going to be awoken by Lizzie kissing me, whispering her love in my ear like she always does. The soft snap of a phone drew his attention back to Dembe who was holding the cellphone in his hand with a devastated look on his ashen face.

“Our people trailing her confirmed what Cooper said,” Dembe reported softly. “I’m so sorry, my brother,” Dembe shared, his own grief pushed to the side as pure anger replaced it. “We will avenge her and bring her body back for a proper burial. We will kill those responsible,” Dembe said fiercely.

Red surfaced slowly from the haze of anger and despair swirling around him.“Yes, we will. There is nowhere they can run or hide where I will not find them, no cave or island or fortress where I won’t get to them. And they will pay. They will suffer at my hand,” he finished as he brought Lizzie’s jacket up to his nose and inhaled her scent. He picked himself up off the floor and walked over and hung up her jacket on the hook next to his at the door. Without another glance behind him, he picked up his hat and coat and holstered his .45.

“Come, Dembe,” he commanded as he made his way out of their apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Slowly, awareness began to return to Lizzie as she strained to open her eyes. After a few minutes, she was able to fully open her eyes and take stock of her situation. From what she could piece together, she’d been strapped to this chair in this dank dungeon for two long, miserable days. The thought caused a groan to rumble out of her chest. 

“Red is going to kill me,” she murmured to herself. 

That train of thought didn’t last long as an intense wave of pain sliced through her body. With great effort, she lowered her head to discern the location of her pain when the memory of the previous night's torture session bubbled up in her mind. They hadn't been able to extract any information from her yet, so they had resorted to simply trying to beat the information out of her. Dressed only in her shredded black jeans and her sports bra, she could see the cuts and bruises that littered her body. Thankfully, nothing had been permanently damaged yet, but all painful nonetheless. She was so focused on checking out her front that when she sat back in the chair, she proceeded to shoot forward again immediately, having momentarily forgotten about the still healing lacerations that covered her back from the whipping.

The whipping had been the worst thus far. They had waterboarded her countless times, deprived her of sleep, food, and water, her wrists and ankles had been rubbed raw from where her bindings were too tight, and she’d been beaten. But the whipping had brought her to her knees. A wave of pride swept through her though, because no matter what they did to her, she never gave them any information. Not about herself or Red, his business empire or his plans for the Cabal…nothing. She would never betray Red. 

Value loyalty, above all else, she repeated his words to herself as a mantra.

She knew Red was going to be beyond angry when he found her and she focused on that, on the heat of his white-hot anger as a way to forget about the pain in her limbs and the gnawing fear at the constant threat of further punishment. She was certain he would come for her, she knew it as clearly as she knew that she would draw her next breath, but she didn’t think she’d be able to wait much longer. The reparations for her stubborn silence continued to get more severe. She’d already lost a lot of blood from the bullet that she took in the shoulder during the gunfight at the warehouse. The bullet wound was still a dull, throbbing ache, though it was surprisingly less painful than her back at the moment. Looking down at it, she could feel the heat from its jagged edges burning the surrounding skin, a telltale sign of an oncoming infection from where her captors had messily tried to clean up the wound. 

Thankfully, through the entire ordeal, her training had not completely abandoned her. She had discovered that no one guarded her cell; they were secure in the ability of their knots to hold her to the chair and the lock on her door. Her captors were Russian and she caught a few words here and there to give her clues to her location. She had figured out that her escape to freedom was just 112 steps to the left of her door. She counted the steps every time someone left her cell and after 112 steps, a door would creak open and sunshine would briefly shine through onto the floor of the corridor outside her cell. By the smell that would quickly waft inside, she had discerned that she was somewhere rural. 

Her only bit of luck had happened the night before. The last man who had come in to try his hand at information extraction had been sloppy; a pen had dropped out of his pants pocket and she was able to pick it up and hide in her bra while she was on the floor recovering from his swift kick to her ribs. Now, she only had to wait until they came and untied her so she could eat her slice of bread, and she’d pick the lock and make her escape. 

Speak of the devil, she thought as a man opened her cell door, her bread and water in his hand. 

The second man at the door trained his pistol on her in case she tried anything while the other man undid her bindings. Once free, the man dropped her bread and cup of water onto the floor and made his way out of the cell, backing up so that he never took his eyes off her. She waited until the hall outside her door was dead silent, then she quickly ate her bread and downed what little water was left in her cup, not knowing when she’d be able to eat or drink again. Then she made her way to the door and carefully began to pick the lock. After only a couple of tries, she heard the tell-tale snick of the lock, and the door slowly opened. A few weeks ago, Dembe had shown her some more complicated, yet more effective ways to pick a lock with anything long and skinny. When she saw him again, she’d have to remember to kiss him in thanks. 

Slowly, she opened the door and peeked outside to see if the coast was clear, before she stepped out and made her way down the corridor to her left, as she saw the door that lead to her freedom. Moving was easier said than done however, as all of her injuries were making themselves known at her more vigorous movement. After a bit of a struggle, she made it to the exterior door and opened it slowly, as she took her time to observe her surroundings. She had been right about being in a rural setting: she could see dense forest surrounding the building on all sides.

It might be upstate New York or Virginia, she thought to herself. 

That was definitely a good thing as she knew Red had safe houses all around both areas; she just needed a definitive location, a mode of transportation, and she’d be able to get herself to one. Seeing nobody in the immediate area, she made her way outside and around the other side of the building. As she scanned the area, she spotted a shed about 100 yards away, which she planned to make her way too, in the hopes of trying to gain some cover while she came up with a more solid escape plan. She skirted her way to the treeline and slowly progressed to the shed. Knowing time was of the essence before someone found her missing, she quickly found her way in and, much to her absolute joy, found a four-wheeler. Unfortunately, there were no keys, but her days of hot-wiring cars would come in handy. . 

She gingerly climbed on and manually put the machine in neutral so she could push it out of the barn and into the woods, with the desperate wish that nobody would hear her start it up. She stumbled off the seat and and opened the backdoor quietly, wincing at the creaking that sounded so loud to her ears, and then started to push. Unimaginable pain shot through her body at the strain of moving the vehicle, but she knew she needed to suck it up because this was life or death. Adrenaline pumped through her veins; she could not go back into that room. Capture was not an option. She knew, after their treatment over the last two days, that they would easily kill her for refusing to reveal what she knew about Red and she would never betray his secrets, so she was fully aware of the fate that awaited her if she failed. Having gotten the bike down the hill and into a slightly more wooded area, she lifted the seat and hot wired the machine to life. Without hesitation, she jumped back on the bike, ignoring the sharp pain, and tore her way through the woods. 

Growing up in Nebraska, Sam had taught her how to navigate through the woods: how to tell time and direction, which plants she could and could not eat, and even how to hunt. Thankfully though, not all of those skills were needed, as she quickly came upon a town sooner than she had expected. 

The sign she passed read: “Hot Springs, VA”. 

This is very, very good, she thought as a wave of relief washed over her. Red had a safe house just north of here in the Monongahela National Forest, about 30 minutes away. If she could, she would have stolen a phone and called Red directly, but unfortunately, after her exoneration, they had all received new burners and she didn't know any of the numbers off the top of her head. 

As the adrenaline of her escape began to wear off, the pain in her body became more glaringly obvious, clouding her senses with it’s undeniable presence. She had managed to travel many miles away from her captors, but she wouldn’t reach her intended destination without some help. She decided to change tactics, abandoning the four-wheeler and making her way into a convenience store. She proceeded to shoplift a shirt, a bottle of water, and a bag of trail mix for her journey. Making her way back outside, she hot-wired a truck that was tucked away behind the gas station, and headed toward the cabin. 

Though the protein in the mix and the water fortified her, about halfway through the drive, she felt her body start to slowly shut down. The pain in her back and ribs was blinding, but she knew she had to make it to the cabin. As soon as she tripped the alarm, someone from Red’s team would come to investigate within the hour and she’d be safe. She just had to get to the cabin.

She replayed their last night together in her head as she drove, clinging to consciousness. 

She was laying on her side in their bed. Their bed. She smiled at the pronoun; she still found it hard to believe he was really hers. With the exception of the loss of her badge, she really could not have hoped for a better outcome to the previous five weeks they had spent on the run together. Red had cleared her name, given her back almost all of the life she had lost, and still managed to secure a position for her where she would be able to work with her old team. And they would be together. In some ways, it was even better, as she no longer had to answer to the task force or quibble with him over his particular brand of achieving justice. She was free to simply work with him, rather than against him as had been the case so many times before. 

She stretched like a cat, arching her back into his front where he lie behind her, one leg thrown over both of hers, his arm around her waist. He groaned in his sleep as her movement awakened him. 

“What time is it?” he grumbled sleepily into her hair.

She smiled and pressed a kiss against the soft skin of his arm where it lay pillowed beneath her head.

“It’s still early,” she sighed pleasantly. “A little after three.”

He harrumphed behind her, mumbling something about the difference between ‘early’ and ‘late’.

“Go back to sleep, love,” she whispered. “We have lots of time.”

He gently ground his hips against her backside. “Well, I can’t go back to sleep now,” he teased. 

She wiggled back against him, earning a hiss of arousal when she brushed up against the heated length of his very awake manhood.

With a growl, he rolled her beneath him and she abruptly found herself pinned to the mattress by the length of his body.

He gently traced the tip of his index finger over the bridge of her nose and down across her lips, tapping lightly on her chin.

“Let me love you,” he whispered.

“Yes,” her voice broke on a breathy moan.

He covered her mouth with his own as his hand slipped between them to draw his hardened length against her wet folds. He rubbed the head of his shaft against her clit until she moaned for him her wanting and he plunged slowly inside her. A handful of thrusts later her climax soared over him and he exploded inside her.

They did fall back asleep then, whispering words of love against sweat-cooled skin in the darkness.

She clung to that memory as she drove the rest of the way on pure willpower and the hope of being reunited with Red very soon. Thankfully, after a 45 minute drive, the cabin finally emerged. 

Her body was shaking profusely, as she pulled herself from the truck. The wounds on her back had re-opened over the course of her journey and had soaked into the upholstery of the truck seat; her t-shirt clung to her, drenched in fresh blood, sticking to the seat as she pulled herself away. 

She stumbled up the walkway and managed to climb her way up the stairs. She picked the lock at the front door on her knees, leaning against the heavy wooden door for support as her eyes squinted at the lock in the darkness. She breached the lock and made her way in, shutting the door behind her. 

She managed to crawl into the bedroom. Under the floorboard in the closet, she knew there would be a stash of guns just beneath the baseboards, as was the case in all of Red’s safe-houses. She pried the trap door open and grabbed a familiar Glock, loaded the magazine, popped it in the firearm, racked the chamber back, and settled herself in the corner to wait for the arrival of reinforcements. 

As she sat on the floor in the closet, she could feel the warm blood oozing down her back. She strained to stay awake, but sleep wanted to take over her body. She had no idea how much time had passed before she heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps slowly entered the small space. If she had known who it was, she would have called out, but for fear of having been followed, she remained quiet and waited for whoever was out there to come to her. 

She strained her ears and heard the familiar gait and unmistakable sound of heels clicking behind the boots. Mr. Kaplan she thought to herself in relief. 

“I’m here,” Lizzie rasped out and then collapsed against the wall of the closet, having used the last of her energy to call out. 

Moments later, Mr. Kaplan and Baz appeared in the closet doorway with their guns trained on her. When recognition dawned, first disbelief, and then simultaneous relief flashed across their faces. 

Baz reached in and wrapped his hands around Liz’s upper arms, pulling her from the closet. Kate helped him guide her to the bed. She stifled her gasp behind a facade devoid of emotion when she saw the raw, weeping wounds soaking through the young woman’s shirt. Silently, Kate indicated to Baz to help her lay Liz on her stomach.

“Oh, dearie, what did they do to you?” Mr. Kaplan breathed out. Turning around she fixed her stony gaze on Baz.

“Call Raymond. Tell him to get here now. Right now,” she snapped authoritatively. 

Kate turned back to Liz who was barely clinging to consciousness. “Hang in there, dearie. Raymond is on his way. You won’t believe how happy he will be to see you,” she reassured her softly.

“T-that feeling’s-s m-mutual.” Lizzie made an attempt at humor and then closed her eyes, allowing the darkness to finally claim her. 

Kate turned around when she heard Baz return.

“I reached Dembe and told him that Mr. Reddington needed to come immediately; that we had a development. They’ll be here in an hour,” Baz told her.

“Very good. Now, help me dress her back. I want to have that gunshot wound and these lacerations cleaned, sealed, and covered before Raymond gets here,” she instructed, turning again to gaze pityingly at Elizabeth. 

~~~~

An hour south, Dembe clicked the phone shut and looked at Red in the backseat. He could see the toll the past few days had taken on his friend. Having barely slept or eaten, he looked visibly worse for wear. 

Red laid his head back against the headrest and felt a calm overcome him as he reached up and placed his hand on his chest, over the many layers he wore, and felt the familiar bulge of the two rings he now wore around his neck. A matched set that had never been worn, but were cherished by nonetheless. 

Now that his reason for living no longer existed, he knew he wouldn't be far behind. Once this mission was completed, he would most likely go off alone somewhere like an old dog and end his pain. But for right now, he still had a cause, a reason to go on existing. He would not let her murder go unavenged. He dropped his hand back to his lap and let the blackness overtake him. 

An hour later, he felt the car come to a stop. He opened his eyes and saw the familiar facade of one of his safe houses in northern Virginia, and he was completely perplexed as to why. Dembe opened his door and he stepped out of the car, blinking in the darkness. In confusion, they made their way toward the front door. 

Baz met them silently in the front foyer.

“What’s the development? And why is it out here?” Red asked sternly.

“See for yourself,” Baz replied with an uncharacteristic smile on his face, pointing to the master bedroom. 

Impatiently, Red made his way into the bedroom and felt his legs collapse underneath him at the sight on the bed before him. Only Dembe’s hand beneath his elbow kept him from breaking his kneecaps as he crashed to the floor in shock. 

She was alive. Raymond was powerless to stop the torrent of tears that spilled from his eyes at his relief. He was hunched over, arms wrapped around himself, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He never even heard Kate as she rose from her chair in the corner and knelt beside him on the floor. He raised his tearstained face to hers when she touched his shoulder comfortingly.

“She’s still unconscious from a sedative I gave her earlier. A little worse for wear, but it’s our same Elizabeth.” She held up a hand. “Before you ask, I don't know how she got here or what happened. Baz and I responded when the silent alarm was tripped and found her armed in the closet. Clever girl.” Kate smiled wistfully at her prone form on the bed. “She has sustained some serious injuries, one of which was a gunshot wound from the shootout at warehouse the other day with the FBI. They’ve all been cleaned, disinfected, and dressed. She’s had a broad-spectrum of antibiotics to combat any infection she might have picked up along the way. Now she needs rest,” she finished her report concisely, her face impassive as ever. 

For the duration of her briefing, Raymond's eyes were riveted to his Lizzie. There she was, right in front of him, living and breathing. His Lizzie was alive. At the look on his face, Mr. Kaplan couldn’t help but smile.

“Go to her, Raymond. She needs you now, just as much as you need her,” she whispered as she pulled him the rest of the way into the room. 

That was all the encouragement he needed to make his way around to the other side of the bed. He started to take his coat off when he looked up at Mr. Kaplan. 

“We’re going to be here for a few days until she is comfortable and healthy enough to be moved. Gather any and all necessary supplies, bring in extra security to guard the house and the surrounding area. And, please, close the door behind you,” he instructed, returning his piercing gaze to the woman lying in his bed. 

As soon as the door was closed, he proceeded to strip himself down to just his boxers and climb into bed with her, shuffling over so that he was lying on his side next to her. She was on her stomach, dressed in nothing but her panties, the blanket pulled up to cover her hips. Her face was turned towards him on her pillow, giving him an unobscured view of her beautiful face. Thankfully, the only injuries he could see were a split lip and a cut on her right eyebrow that had been sutured closed. 

He ran his gaze along the rest of her body, and noticed the bandages all over her back. In his line of work, he had seen these sort of injuries before, and his heart clenched at the knowledge of what she had had to endure. The anger and rage that bubbled up inside of him in that moment was so unchecked, he felt as if he could bend metal. Slowly, he shifted his gaze back up to her face and the anger dissipated slowly, as the reassurance that she was, indeed, alive and safe and back with him, took its place. 

He brought a shaking hand up and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. One of his favorite things to do when she slept, was to outline her features with his eyes, committing every nuance and detail to memory. He took her hand in his own and threaded their fingers together. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he leaned forward and placed gentle kisses on her forehead, her nose, and then, on her lips.

“I’m here, Lizzie. You're safe now, my love” he whispered as tears fell down his face. 

The feelings of relief and love that washed over him in that moment were so intense that he felt his heart constrict in his chest. 

“I love you, Lizzie,” he told her again as he brought her hand up to his lips and placed a lingering kiss to the back of it. He lowered their entwined hands back to the mattress between them and for the first time in three days, a relaxed and peaceful sleep finally overtook him.


	3. Chapter 3

As awareness returned to Lizzie, the previous days’ events passed through her mind like a slideshow. She remembered the shootout and being captured. She remembered pain. She remembered escaping and stealing a car to drive to one of Red’s safe houses. She remembered Baz and Mr. Kaplan finding her. After that, everything else was a blur. From the burning sensation on her back and chest, she surmised that Mr. Kaplan had cleaned and dressed her wounds. She must have given her something for the pain because, much to her relief, she was in none. 

Those thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when she smelled a very familiar scent. His scent. She mustered all the strength she could manage to slowly open her eyes. The sight that greeted her was heart-stopping. 

Lying in front of her, bare-chested and perfect, was her Raymond . 

Red, she whispered across her mind. An immediate sense of relief and safety washed across her, causing her to expel a sigh of relief. 

Never a heavy sleeper, Red sensed the change in her, and his eyes quickly snapped open. Lizzie was awake and looking at him with such utter devotion that it caused his breath to catch in his chest. Their hands were still entwined between them and Lizzie squeezed his fingers in reassurance. 

“I love you Raymond,” Lizzie rasped out.

Tears sprung to Red’s eyes. He couldn’t help the wave of emotion that crashed over him at hearing her utter those precious words to him, words that, only hours before, he thought he’d never hear again. He shifted his body closer to hers so her side was pressed against his front. 

“I love you, Elizabeth, so much,” he whispered back to her as his hand came up to caress her cheek. “I thought I’d lost you,” he continued, gazing deeply into her eyes. “When Cooper told me what happened in the warehouse...I thought I’d lost everything in that moment, everything that made my life worth living was gone in a breath.” He managed to get the words out as new tears streamed down his face, unchecked. 

Realization hit her as his words penetrated her sleep-addled mind. He thought she had died. She allowed herself to get lost in the agony that he must have felt, putting herself in his place for a moment. Without hesitation, she leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. His hand swept back and cradled her head as he held her to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Red,” she murmured her apology in between kisses. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he told her furiously. 

She nodded at him in acceptance, her brow furrowing.

“Can you tell me what happened? How you ended up here?” he asked hesitantly, afraid of what she was going to tell him.

In halting words, she told him everything. She glossed over the torture methods for Red’s sake, but somehow he already knew what had happened to her, reading the signs in her bruised and battered body. At that moment, she wished more than anything that she could have spared him the sight of herself. 

Listening to Lizzie’s account of what had happened had been, by far, one of the hardest things he’d ever had to sit through. He tried his best to school his features so as not to let her see how her story had affected him, but he knew by the tears that occasionally ran down her cheek that he hadn’t done a very good job. In the end, though, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had rescued herself and had found her way back to him.   
He held her gently through the re-telling of her harrowing experience. “I didn’t tell them anything,” she reassured him at the end.

“What do you mean, love?” Confusion colored his words.

“About you, about your business… I didn’t tell them anything.” It seemed very important for her to tell him, to make sure he knew.

“Is that what you thought I cared about?” he asked incredulously. “About my business? Lizzie, I couldn’t care less about that part of my life. You are my life,” he insisted, holding her to him as fiercely as he dared.

Hot tears leaked out of her eyes and trailed down his neck. She sobbed against him, finally able to feel the extent of the fear and adrenaline from the last few days.

“I just…” she faltered, “I would never betray you like that, Ray; I would never endanger you if I had a choice.”

He rocked her against his chest, whispering soothingly into her hair. “No, Lizzie, no. If there was ever a chance of you escaping any kind of pain, I don’t care what you have to tell them about me. I don’t care about any of it,” he finished vehemently.

Lizzie hiccupped in his arms, struggling to suppress her tears, relieved that he wasn’t upset with her.

He sighed, brushing strands of hair back from her face. “Now, do you think you could tell me the approximate location of where you were being held?” Red asked her gently.

“I can tell you exactly where I was being held. One of the perks of being raised in the country; you know your way around,” she finished with a watery smile. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered before he closed the distance between them again, and firmly pressed his lips against hers.

She brought her hand up and gently caressed his head, running her hand down his side burn before cupping his cheek in her palm. He may not have been tortured in the physical sense, but he had been through hell all the same. The thought caused her to cringe.

Red reacted to the subtle scrunch of her face. “Are you in pain?” he asked anxiously.

“Not physically, no, but emotionally...knowing what you’ve been through the past couple of days...for that, yes, I’m in pain,” she replied honestly. 

“I’m ok now. We’re ok, and we’ll get through this. Together,” he told her confidently. 

The sunlight caught on the chain Red wore, drawing her attention to the glint of gold secured around his neck. Her eyes dropped down to his chest where the rings still laid nestled against his hair. Curiosity filled her eyes as she lifted them back up to meet his own, a silent question. He reached up and unfastened the clasp of the necklace, and dropped the two rings into her palm, still warm from his body heat. Red let the chain pool between them on the bed and brought his hand back to wrap around hers, the rings nestled between their palms.

“The night you were taken, I had intended to ask you to marry me,” he confessed as his eyes bored intensely into hers. “When you never came home...I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wore them around my neck as a constant reminder of what I was fighting for and what was awaiting me when I avenged your death,” he told her softly, raw emotion stealing across his face. 

Lizzie’s eyes widened in understanding.“You were going to…” she whispered softly.

“I’ve told you before, wherever you go, I will follow. In life and death.” Tears pricked his eyes again. “There is no meaning in this life for me if you are not here to share it. You are my soulmate and we are destined to be with one another, in this life and the next. We will always find our way back to each other. Always,” he finished with determination. 

“Oh, Raymond,” Lizzie managed to get out as silent tears streamed down her face again.

Red leaned forward and kissed them away. Unfolding their entwined hands, Red plucked her ring from her palm and slid it onto her finger.

“Marry me, Elizabeth” 

Taking his band in her hand, she slipped it onto his finger. 

“Marry me, Raymond,” she replied, a challenge in her eyes.

Red smirked. 

“Yes. I will marry you, Lizzie” he answered as he placed a warm, gentle kiss on her hand, over her newly-placed ring.

“Yes. I will marry you, Ray. A thousand times yes!” she answered in return.

They leaned into each other at the same time, their lips finding the other’s, opening instantly, as their tongues duelled for dominance. Their moment of passion came to a screeching halt at Lizzie’s painful hiss.

Red snapped back to assess her. He sprang into action, retrieving Mr. Kaplan. She appeared, medical bag in hand and made her way over to Lizzie. 

“On a scale from one to ten, how much are you hurting, dearie?” Mr. Kaplan asked quietly. 

“Five,” Lizzie managed to grind out through gritted teeth.

“Liar,” Red shot back softly from where he was pulling on his clothes. 

The knowledge that the woman he loved was in pain and there was nothing he could do to fix it caused an itch under his skin that he couldn't seem to scratch.

“Raymond, sit back down on the bed next to your wife and stay still while I tend to her,” Mr. Kaplan told him sternly.

Like a scolded child, Red did as he was told, taking Lizzie’s hand back and holding it between his own, absently running his thumb over her ring.

 

“How’s it looking back there? I know it’s not pretty to look at” Lizzie spoke softly into her pillow, bitterness tinging her words.

“No sign of infection, thankfully, but you will definitely have a few scars once everything has healed,” she responded with her clinical neutrality. “Another day or two of taking it easy and then you can move around freely; just no jerky movements, if you can help it. We don't want these breaking open”.

Red stiffened next to her. She shifted her eyes up to see a look of regret and thinly masked disgust on his face . The irony was not lost on her; she accepted Red’s scars as a mark of his bravery, but she couldn’t help but be more than a little heartbroken that her body would be disfigured. More than anything, she wanted to be beautiful in Red’s eyes, but she knew she didn't look like the woman she had been before she was taken. Suddenly overcome with her own insecurity, Lizzie pulled her hand back from Red’s.

“Could you help me to the bathroom, please?” she asked quietly.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Red rose up off the mattress and made his way around the bed to her side.

“No! No that's ok,” Lizzie responded urgently, halting his movements. “Mr. Kaplan, if that's ok,” she couldn’t bring her eyes up to meet Red’s. 

“Of course, dearie.” She helped Lizzie off the bed and into the bathroom. 

Once Lizzie was settled, she dismissed Mr. Kaplan. 

Kate returned to the bedroom to see Red, hands clenched in a worried fashion, angrily pacing back and forth.

“What was that about?” Red asked her quietly, a look of hurt and confusion etched across his features.

“My best guess is that she’s feeling vulnerable because of her injuries.” Kate settled herself into her chair again. “Speaking as a woman, it’s difficult to accept an obvious flaw when today’s society places so much weight on outward appearances. Elizabeth is most likely having doubts about how she looks right now and how people will view her from now on. I’m quite sure you can relate to that feeling.” She gave him a knowing look.

“She must know that her scars only make her more beautiful in my eyes, that I love her no matter what she looks like. I love her more than anything in the world; no scar or blemish could change how I feel about her”.

Kate sighed, rising from her chair and crossing to him. 

“Of course, I know that, and so does she, rationally. But, she isn’t thinking rationally right now; she’s responding based on emotion. So, make sure to remind her of that; reassure her that you love her unconditionally, as she loves you. Be gentle with her, Raymond,” she finished with a hand on his shoulder before turning to the living room. 

She was right, of course, and he knew what he needed to do. Looking down at himself, he took his shirt off again, leaving his own scars open to view and waited for his Lizzie to reemerge from the bathroom. Minutes ticked by and still she did not return. When he could bear her absence no longer, Red made his way to the bathroom door and knocked.

“Lizzie? Are you alright sweetheart?” he asked gently.

No answer.

He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. The sight of his Lizzie sitting on the floor, silent tears flowing down her face, broke his heart. He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees in front of her, gently pulling her into his chest.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” He carefully wrapped his arms around her. “Talk to me, Lizzie.” 

Still there was no response, so he pulled back and laid his forehead against her own as he reached up and cupped her face between his palms.

“What is it, my love?” he asked again. Each tear that slipped down her cheek dug into him like a knife to the heart.

“Y-you deserve a b-beautiful woman, not this s-scarred shell. A w-woman who you can proudly have o-on your arm in a backless d-dress. I k-know it l-looks awful,” she stammered out between sobs.

“Stop those thoughts right now, Elizabeth,” he ordered with vehemence. “You are the most beautiful woman I know, and there is no way in hell I would ever want another woman on my arm!” His tone cooled a bit, “You're mine, Lizzie, scars and all. And I’m yours. These,” he touched her shoulder gently, “Are a testament to your unconditional love and unwavering loyalty to me; how could I ever fault you for them?” He lifted her face so her eyes could meet his own. “We will wear our scars proudly, do you hear me?” 

She peered up at him through her tears and saw a man who loved her completely, all of her. It was a love she felt utterly undeserving of, but would greedily take, nonetheless. They had both sacrificed so much for one another that it seemed only fitting that they wear their dedication to each other on their skin. What may be hideous to others, was beautiful to them. That was something she could completely believe in. 

“I love you, Elizabeth, soon-to-be Reddington,” he whispered against her lips before he placed a firm, yet chaste kiss to her salty lips.

Exhausted, she fell against his chest. Carefully, Red shifted her body and cradled her to his chest as he would a child and carried her back to bed. He laid her down gently and crawled into the other side, bringing her body over to his so she was laying on his chest. She turned her head and placed a kiss on the skin right above his heart. 

“I love you, Raymond,” she whispered against his chest as sleep overtook her.


End file.
